


Permanency

by citrinesunset



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With one month left on his sentence, Neal struggles to tell Peter that he's pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permanency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theatregirl7299](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatregirl7299/gifts).



> Thank you to Kanarek13 for the wonderful artwork for this story!

[](http://imgur.com/IPClgbG)

Neal looked at his stomach in the full-length mirror beside his bed, and sighed. He wasn't very big yet, but there was definitely a bump. No wonder his pants were starting to get tight. With his lean frame and preference for tailored clothes, a baby was going to be tough to hide.

The prospect of having to give up his treasured suits wasn't the only problem. He had to tell Peter.

The delay wasn't completely Neal's fault. He'd been more than two months along before he figured out he was pregnant. But still, he should have told Peter then.

The door opened, and before Neal could reach for a shirt, Mozzie came in. Mozzie stopped, took a look at Neal, and raised his eyebrows.

"You're going to need pregnancy clothes soon."

"I'm not _that_ big."

"You will be. So, have you told the Suit yet?"

Neal was silent.

"Neal? Please say you're going to tell him."

"It's not that easy, okay?"

Mozzie shook his head and made his way over to Neal's wine stash. Ever since Neal discovered his pregnancy, Mozzie had taken it upon himself to drink on Neal's behalf. ("While you eat for two," he'd said, "I will drink for two.")

"Well, when _will_ it be easy? When you're in labor?"

"My sentence ends in a month. After that, it'll be easier to leave if I have to."

He didn't think for a second that Peter would _ask_ him to leave. But that didn't mean that Peter was going to be fine with the pregnancy, and Neal had to be prepared to do whatever he had to.

Even if Peter wasn't upset, the FBI would definitely have a problem once they found out that one of their agents impregnated a CI who was technically a ward of the federal prison system.

And then there was Elizabeth. The pregnancy would affect her, too, and what if she wasn't happy about Peter having someone else's baby?

"Besides," Neal said, "I have to figure out how to tell him. I don't want him to think I waited to try to manipulate him."

That wasn't Neal's intention. He was having this baby one way or another. He would just...try not to destroy Peter's career. Or marriage.

He was a little surprised by his own determination. A decade ago, he didn't think he'd have wanted the baby. And the first few days after he discovered the pregnancy were filled with worries and sleepless nights. But now, he couldn't help but be happy, even though he knew he was woefully unprepared. Perhaps it was the timing. He would be a free man soon, and he didn't know what that would mean for him. But now he had one answer: he was going to be a father.

Neal looked at his watch. He needed to get ready for work. It took him longer to get dressed these days. His belly wasn't that big, but he spent a lot of time fussing over his clothes to make sure it was concealed.

On his way to work, he stopped to pick up a muffin. He'd had breakfast, but he was still a bit hungry. He'd been eating like mad lately, and he was convinced that by the time his pregnancy was over, he was going to be thirty pounds heavier.

At the office, there was a stack of check fraud cases waiting for him. Check fraud was only marginally more interesting than mortgage fraud. He sighed, but got to work.

He got up from his desk an hour later for a bathroom break, and when he returned, Peter stepped out of his office and motioned for Neal to come upstairs.

When he entered Peter's office, he asked, "What is it?"

Peter grinned and turned his computer monitor so that Neal could see it. He was greeted with a picture of a white beach and rolling turquoise waves.

"What would you think of taking a vacation?" Peter asked. "Maybe somewhere in the Caribbean."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "A little out of my radius, don't you think?"

"You won't have a radius much longer."

"Seriously? You want to take a vacation? You don't even like taking sick days."

"Well, El's been wanting to go somewhere for a while, and I'm sure you'll want to travel once that anklet comes off. I thought it'd be a good time."

Ordinarily, Neal would have been thrilled. He was ready for a change of scenery. But with the baby coming, he would need to consider it. His doctor had warned him the pregnancy might be uncomfortable; he may have been able to carry a baby, but his body wasn't built for it as well as a woman's. He would almost certainly need a C-section.

It would be nice to get away for a spell before his third trimester, but once Peter found out, he might not _want_ to go on vacation anymore.

"I'll think about it," Neal said.

Peter's smile disappeared. "What, that's it? I thought you'd like the idea."

"I do. I just need some time to consider."

Peter studied him. His eyes were piercing, like he had x-ray vision, and Neal felt like a suspect in the interrogation room. But then he murmured under his breath and nodded. "All right. Give it some thought."

That evening, Neal was getting ready to leave on his own when Peter stopped him and insisted on driving him home.

The silence at first was unbearable. Neal knew he should say something, but didn't think the car was the right place to drop a bombshell on Peter. The last thing they needed was for Peter to rear-end the car in front of them.

"You've been distant lately," Peter said. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"I wasn't aware there was a problem."

"I feel like I've barely seen you this week. We haven't...had sex in ages—"

"Oh, yeah? What do you call the blow job I gave you?"

"That was over a week ago. And when I tried to reciprocate, you pushed me away."

Neal looked out the window. "I wasn't aware I always had to be in the mood."

"That's not it. Look, if it's because your sentence is ending, I want you to know I understand. I know you have stuff to figure out, and if I'm not a part of your future, that's your choice. But I want you to know, I'm hoping you'll stick around."

Neal swallowed around the lump that was forming in his throat. "It's nothing like that," he said. "I just haven't been feeling well lately."

That was true. Right now, for example, he felt queasy. He guessed it was about forty-percent nerves, fifty-percent morning sickness (which, in his case, was really "any unpredictable moment sickness").

As they neared June's house, Neal said, "Why don't you come up for a minute. I need to talk to you about something."

Peter glanced over at him, and Neal was afraid he'd push for information now. But he just said, "All right."

When they arrived, Neal led the way upstairs. June was out this evening, and the house was dark and quiet. When they entered the apartment, Neal was prepared to offer Peter a drink. Try to ease into this a bit. But before he could, Peter got right down to business.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"There's something you should know," Neal said. "I didn't know about it myself until recently."

Peter frowned. "What is it? Is everything okay?"

"That's a matter of opinion. I'm pregnant."

Peter gaped at him. Usually, it was fun to catch Peter off-guard. Right now, not so much.

"Wha— _how_?"

"I don't think I need to explain how babies are made."

"I know, I know. I mean, I thought it was hard for you to get pregnant. I thought you were on birth control."

"I was. It's not foolproof."

But Neal had spent the past several years feeling like it was. He'd been told getting pregnant would be unlikely. He'd heard of men like him trying for years to get pregnant, so it seemed easy enough to avoid it happening by accident. He'd obviously passed that confidence on to Peter. He couldn't blame him for being surprised.

"And it's mine," Peter said.

Neal narrowed his eyes. "No, the father is one of the many other men I have sex with. Yes, Peter, it's yours."

Peter visibly swallowed. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry, it's just—I wasn't expecting this." He started to pace. "Oh, God," he moaned. "This is—this is a lot to process." He pressed his fist against his mouth.

In other circumstances, Peter's mounting panic might be been entertaining.

"How far along are you?" Peter asked.

Neal swallowed around the lump that formed in this throat. This was the question he'd been dreading. "Thirteen weeks."

Peter's eyes widened. "And you're telling me _now_?"

"I didn't know, myself. I was already nine weeks along when I went to the doctor."

"So, you waited another month to tell me?"

Peter walked over to the sofa and sat down. He pressed his fingers against his lips.

Neal remained where he was, standing by the dining room table.

"I needed time to think," Neal said. "And I didn't want to mess things up for you." He paused. When Peter didn't say anything, Neal continued. "Look, we don't have to say you're the father. If you want to be part of the baby's life, we could wait a little bit and you could adopt it."

Peter looked up at Neal, his face wrinkled in confusion. "Why would I adopt my own kid?"

"Don't you get it? If it doesn't look like you're the biological father, the FBI won't have any reason to accuse you of taking advantage of me. There's no reason we can't get together after my sentence is over."

Realization dawned on Peter's face. "Is _that_ why you didn't tell me? You're trying to protect me?"

"I know you have more to lose than I do. I was always going to tell you. I just didn't want you to worry until I could think of a plan."

"And your plan is to have me pretend the baby isn't mine. Neal, do you really think I'd be willing to put my job above my own child? Or the people I care about? I'm not going to explain to my son or daughter that I lied about being their dad just so I could keep a job."

The hurt in Peter's voice pricked at Neal's confidence, and Neal winced. He'd been so assured that he was looking out for Peter's best interests. "I know," he said. "That's why I wanted to wait. I didn't want you to make a mistake."

Peter stood up. "No, none of this is a mistake. Listen—" He walked over to Neal and put a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it."

"But the FBI—"

"Are you planning to lodge a complaint against me?"

Neal blinked. "What? No, of course not."

"Then the Bureau isn't going to make a big stink over it. They'll want to keep the matter quiet."

"You could still lose your job. You could get demoted, or transferred."

Peter pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, maybe. I wouldn't have slept with you if I wasn't willing to deal with that." Slowly, he smiled. "We're going to be parents. Whatever happens, that's all that matters."

He pulled Neal into a hug. Neal smiled and let out a short, relieved laugh. He knew the issue wasn't resolved, but almost two months' worth of worry felt lifted from his shoulders. Peter cupped Neal's face in his hands and kissed him.

Stepping back, Peter looked down at Neal's stomach. "How big is it? Can I see?"

With fumbling fingers, Neal pulled his shirt loose and unbuttoned the bottom buttons. Peter's eyes grew larger as he saw the small bump. Reaching out, he placed a cold palm against Neal's belly.

"Will you look at that," he said, a smile on his face.

"Do you want to see the ultrasound?"

Peter looked up, meeting Neal's eyes. "Yeah."

Neal let his shirt fall back down over his stomach, and walked over to the bookcase. He pulled out a book on nineteenth-century Russian art and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He carried it over to Peter.

"You can't see much," he said. "The doctor told me this round part is the head."

Peter took the print-out from Neal and looked down at it, transfixed.

"I'm going to have to tell El," Peter murmured.

Neal frowned, sorry to see the carefree moment slip away. "Do you think she'll be upset?"

Peter shook his head. "No," he said carefully. "I'm sure it'll be a surprise, but we'll all adjust."

"Do you want me to tell her? I am the one having the baby."

Peter appeared to consider that. Neal was sure it was tempting. But in the end, he said, "No, I'll talk to her. You just rest and focus on taking care of yourself. Have you been watching what you eat? You've stopped drinking, right?"

"Of course," Neal said, a little insulted.

"Yeah, you're right. Of course you have."

Peter hesitated, not seeming to want to go away.

"Go," Neal said. "Talk to Elizabeth. I'll be fine."

Peter made his way to the door, but he paused in the doorway, his eyes lingering on Neal's stomach.

Neal had spent so much time worrying about the consequences of the pregnancy that he hadn't even considered what Peter would be like as a proud father. Neal sighed as he took off his suit jacket. It was bad enough to have Mozzie hovering over him, pushing vitamins on him and offering to be his midwife (thank goodness he was going to have a C-section...).

But Neal smiled despite himself. The attention wasn't all that bad. And while he told himself he would have been fine raising the baby on his own, he couldn't imagine a better father for his child than Peter.

* * *

On the last day of Neal's sentence, the white collar office threw him a small party. There was a cake in the boardroom, and Jones presented him with a card that was signed by everyone in the office.

Neal basked in the attention despite himself. Though he would have normally loved a party, these days he was trying to avoid too much attention. He felt like he was smuggling something under his shirt, and it was getting hard to conceal his belly under a suit. The worst part was that he was only in his second trimester. He hated to imagine how big he'd be in a couple months. His body was already rebelling against the added bulk. His feet hurt. His back ached. At least the nausea was getting better.

The other day, Mozzie had taken him shopping for pregnancy clothes, which had been an altogether demoralizing affair. Neal had always been a fan of slim lines and narrow-cut suits, and the pregnancy shirts felt like smocks by comparison. After today, though, he wouldn't need to wear suits often. Neal would need to think about his career, but Peter was insisting that he take a few months off until after the baby was born.

As the other agents filtered out of the boardroom, Neal stayed behind, hiding his belly under the edge of the table. Sometimes his clothes needed to be adjusted when he stood, so it was best to wait until he was alone to get up.

Diana stayed behind. Once they were alone, she said, "Take care of yourself, Caffrey."

"Thanks. You too."

"And don't let Peter get out of any diaper changes."

Neal smiled. He'd been able to keep his condition a secret, and both he and Peter agreed it would be best to do so until after today. But it had proved difficult to keep it from Diana. 

"Don't worry," Neal said. "I'll make sure he pulls his weight."

Peter and Elizabeth had invited Neal over for dinner that evening. Neal stopped home first, and got changed into more comfortable clothes. He didn't particularly like the looks he got when he wore a stretchy t-shirt over his growing belly, but his vanity was slowly losing out to comfort.

He was looking forward to dinner. When Elizabeth had invited him over the phone last night, she'd intimated that there would be some surprises for him. The prospect of getting presents always appealed to Neal.

Elizabeth had been more supportive than Neal could have hoped. He knew this was an adjustment for her, and that perhaps it was more than she had signed up for when her husband fell for his CI. But he knew her enthusiasm about the baby was real.

She and Peter had both joined Neal at his most recent ultrasound, and she'd seemed almost as excited as Peter when the doctor told them Neal was having a girl.

When the cab pulled up to the Burkes' house, Neal sighed as he extricated himself from the car. He back complained as he stood up. He paid the driver and went up to the door.

Elizabeth answered. She gave him a hug and ushered him into the living room.

"Peter has been busy shopping," she said. "With all the things he wants to get, you'd think you were having triplets."

Neal stopped short when he reached the living room. Near the entrance to the dining room was an impressive pile of baby things, including a high chair that was still in the box.

Peter came out from the kitchen, grinning. "What do you think?"

"I thought I was the one who was going to spoil our daughter."

"Nah, this isn't spoiling her. These are things we need. Have a seat—I've got something for you."

Neal sat down in the closest chair, happy to take his weight off his feet. Peter handed him a gift bag.

Grinning, Neal reached inside and pulled out a red t-shirt. It was clearly intended for a pregnant man. Holding it up in front of him. Across the front, it read: **Future Yankees Fan**. An arrow pointed down toward the belly.

Looking up at Peter, Neal said, "I hope you realize I'm not wearing this in public."

"Oh, come on," Peter said with a grin, "it's cute."

Neal looked at the pile of baby items with a wistful smile. It was nice, but there was also something strange about receiving gifts that were really for his baby. It reminded him of how completely his life was about to change. He was happy, but sometimes he felt like he was trading the anklet for a baby.

But he was _choosing_ to be tied down. That was what mattered.

Elizabeth, who had sat down on the sofa, reached out and put a hand on Neal's knee. "Neal, honey, I know you were disappointed that the doctor said no overseas travel."

He _was_ disappointed, but he understood. The doctor assured him that things were progressing well, but she wanted to monitor the pregnancy carefully, and she'd warned Neal that he might have to go on bed rest during the third trimester. Going overseas right now would be risky.

"We were thinking, "Elizabeth continued, "that maybe we could take a little trip for a couple days. Maybe to DC. You can visit some museums while you still feel up to walking around."

"That would nice," he said. It wasn't the Caribbean or Paris, but it wasn't bad, either. "Thanks. For all of this. You guys have been great."

Peter took a seat on the sofa beside Elizabeth. "Actually, we had something else we wanted to talk to you about."

He sounded serious, and Neal grew guarded. Shifting his eyes between the two of them, he said, "Yeah?"

Peter squeezed Elizabeth's hand and said, "We'd like you to think about moving in here. We've got a couple rooms on the third floor. One could be yours, the other could be a nursery. There's no reason for you to have to be on your own. And we'd—like it."

"We'd love to have you here," Elizabeth said. "And it'll make a lot of sense when the baby comes. It'll be so much easier to work out childcare if all three of us are around to help."

Neal raised his eyebrows and looked down at his lap. He was still holding the t-shirt. "Wow. Thank you. I appreciate the offer."

"You don't have to decide today," Peter said. "We hope you'll agree, but it's your choice."

"I know you guys are right. It makes sense. I guess it's just weird. I've spent so much time on the run. I'm not used to putting down roots, making permanent decisions."

"I don't think you can get much more permanent than a baby," Elizabeth said.

Neal chuckled. "Yeah." He shook his head fondly. "For the record, I can't think of a place I'd rather be tied to."


End file.
